Espearonage
by MorbidbyDefault
Summary: "Don't eat when I'm working. Digestion slows me down." However, is there more than meets the eye when it comes to the extraordinary detective's eating habits?


In a little story-vs-story challenge between loki-the-avenging-hedgehog and myself, I give you this lovely little peach of a story. (Play on words very much intended.)

I don't own Sherlock, BBC, Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, or anything else.

**Enjoy!**

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Sherlock had always seemed, just a little extra-natural. He hardly slept, and seemed to survive off of coffee and nicotine. But was that actually the case? Or, was there more to this tall, mystery of a man than met the eye?

OoOo

Molly's theory had started after the third time it happened. The first time had been an honest mistake on her part. It had been a busy day in the morgue, and though she had intended on finishing her breakfast from that morning, she never quite got around to it. So, the lonely little pear sat waiting to be enjoyed. Molly had turned off the light to the morgue, leaving the fruit in the dark. When she had returned the next morning, it was gone.

The second time, she had been so very excited to eat a delightful and juicy pear. However, it was right as she was taking a break that Sherlock had decided to walk into the lab, prompting her to take immediate action in procuring him a fresh cup of coffee. Molly smiled shyly, after he complimented the jumper she had worn. She wandered off, and returned ten minutes later. She sat at her desk, and reached for the succulent little green pear that had been resting on her desk. Sadly, it had vanished, not to be seen on the floor, and not to be found tucked in the corner by the miscellaneous papers strewn about. Molly bent down to look under her desk, all around it, and even looked in the bin, thinking it may have taken an unfortunate tumble. Nothing. She sighed, and decided to focus on something aside from her grumbling stomach. Sherlock's insistent need for her help processing samples had helped. A bit. 'He couldn't have taken it, could he?' Molly wondered to herself. 'No, don't be daft. He never eats anyway.'

However, the third time had made her slightly suspicious about the consulting detective. She had popped out to get them both a cup of coffee. When she had returned, she placed the cup in front of Sherlock's hand. As he took it, his fingers accidentally brushed up against hers. They were slightly damp, and she gasped, looking up to his face. Her cheeks blushed with the contact, and she noticed him lick his lips briskly. The odd and awkward silence fell between them, and Molly went back to her work. Hours later, she was going to enjoy the first pear out of the new bag she had purchased. Organically grown, they were ripened to perfection, so golden and lovely. To her dismay, again, the pear was gone. Sherlock had chosen that instance to whisk himself away. As he flung his coat on over his shoulders, Molly saw a small something fall to the floor. After he was gone, she walked to where the piece was on the floor, and picked it up. A stem. It had confirmed things in her mind. Molly gasped a bit, before feeling a slight anger bubble up inside her. 'That thief!'

Sherlock walked in to the lab, seeing no sign of the small pathologist anywhere. He then saw his microscope set up with one of his more recent experiments, ready to be analyzed. 'She thinks of everything.' He thought to himself, before sitting down. Next to the first slide was a small note, waiting for him.

'Just went to get some coffee. Be back soon. -Molly'

He smiled a bit to himself, before reaching for the first slide to place on the scope. However, something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. There, on her desk, sat a plump, perfect, and larger than usual green pear. Sherlock licked his lips in anticipation for the taste of it. He walked over quickly to it, and plucked it up in a flash. His hand brought the pear up to his lips, and he was just about to take a bit, when,

"I knew it!" He looked over with wide eyes, to see Molly standing in the doorway, a bright and positively scheming smile on her face. He looked around the room, for anyone else to be present. When he looked back, she was walking toward him, her arms crossed and her face scrunched up in slight annoyance.

"Why are you swiping my fruit, Sherlock? Said so yourself, you don't eat during cases. So what's this, then?" Molly grabbed the pear from his hand, and clutched it tightly into her own. He looked down, positively ashamed that he'd been caught. She giggled, and brought the pear to her lips, victoriously taking a bite from it. The pear's fibrous skin snapped and cracked under the pressure of her pearly teeth, and Sherlock had to fight it in himself to fully admit to his reasons. She looked up, eyebrows raised in wait.

"Well, come on then. Out with it. Why steal my fruit?" She looked up to him, a catlike grin on her face. Sherlock sighed out, before stepping away from her, and back to his station. However, her hand flew out, grabbing him by the forearm.

"Oh, no no no. You're not getting away with it that easily." She said, taking another bite. He hadn't expected to do anything about it, but his body betrayed him, and acted on pure impulse. In a quick motion, his lips were on hers, his tongue prying past them as she moaned in shock. He successfully snagged the freshly bitten piece of pear from her mouth, and brought it back to his own. When they separated, he looked down at Molly's shocked expression.

"You always smell like pears. Pears are one of the only fruits I like the taste of. The one thing I have a trouble resisting when it comes to food. Pears. My one indulgence. When you started bringing them in with you to work, the smell grew stronger. You literally became part of that temptation, Molly Hooper." He voiced in a husky tone, trying to clear his throat from the obvious amorous feelings he had been withholding. Molly looked at him, her mouth falling open slightly. Then, in a rare act of confidence, she bit out another chunk of the juicy fruit, and held it between her teeth. Sherlock's own lips curled into a Cheshire grin, as he bent down for another bite. The two had finished the pear completely, and were now leaning against her desk, breathing in each others' air.

"You know, you technically owe me from the first three pears you stole." Molly said in false indignation. Sherlock chuckled, before leaning down to kiss her again.

"Oh, I think that can be arranged."

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And there you have it. I hope everyone enjoyed that. :D I know it may be fruity…;) but oh well. Still loads of fun. This all came about from a conversation about time travel, bananas, the fact that the Doctor doesn't like pears, and wondering if Sherlock did. So, there's that. Hope you liked it. Leave me a review yes?


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